


Hot Chocolate

by Kateydidit



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Crack, Drabble, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Holidays, Hot Chocolate, sweet tooth, what even did I write here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-28 12:10:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kateydidit/pseuds/Kateydidit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has a sweet tooth. John has a theory. Maybe it's his turn to perform an experiment. Utter crack for the holidays.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

> There were some daily Christmas prompts floating around during December; I tried my hand at a few of them. This one was "hot chocolate". I have no idea why this was the first thing that came to mind, but here you go.  
> Un-beta'd, un-Britpick'd, and completely ridiculous. Enter at your own risk. XD

Sherlock Holmes was not a man to do anything by halves. He would stay awake past the point when most normal people would have collapsed, and then sleep for nearly a full day; or become extraordinarily focused on a puzzle while acting as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. When excited, he was nearly manic, and when bored you could feel the coiled energy ready to spring loose. He rushed headlong into everything and did nothing in moderation, so it was John’s personal opinion that, really, it only made sense that Sherlock would have the biggest sweet tooth he had ever seen.

John wasn’t even sure Sherlock was aware of it. The man doctored his tea and coffee without fail simply as a matter of habit, and John soon found that he could get at least  _some_  food into Sherlock when he was in the middle of a case by leaving a plate of biscuits somewhere within easy reach. Inevitably, the detective would end up nibbling at them as he passed, apparently unconsciously. 

John was careful not to bring his attention to it.

Regardless of whether he was aware of it or not, Sherlock apparently craved sugar, so when John passed by a certain other kind of heated beverage during his shopping for tea one December afternoon, he decided to test a theory.

Sherlock was sitting at the table in the living room when John returned, seemingly updating his blog by the intensity of the typing and apparently oblivious to all external activity. John smiled to himself - a smile which, had Sherlock noticed it, would probably cause the detective to make a grab for John’s gun - and started busying himself about the kitchen. Shortly thereafter he set a mug down on Sherlock’s right, as he usually did, and sat in his armchair with the paper to watch the show.

He didn’t have to wait long.

There was a spluttering noise, and John looked up to find Sherlock, whipped cream covering his chin and half up his nose, staring at the mug with a degree of alarm that suggested it had suddenly grown teeth and bitten him. The image was so utterly ridiculous that John burst into laughter, setting his own mug down on the table beside him for fear of spilling it. Sherlock furrowed his brows, raising his free hand to touch the whipped cream on his nose and looking at it as if he’d never seen the stuff before.

“This isn’t tea,” he commented, confused, and the statement set John off again.

“No,” he wheezed a moment later, once he’d got his breath back, “it’s hot chocolate.”

Sherlock was silent for a moment, considering that, which would have looked much more impressive if he didn’t still have whipped cream up his nose.

“Why?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” John fibbed. “It’s the holidays?” He rolled his eyes. “Just drink it,” he added, unfolding his paper. “And you should probably clean your face, before I’m forced to take photographic evidence.” He grinned.

There was silence from the other side of the paper for several minutes, and John had just about quelled his periodic urges to giggle when suddenly-

“John.” Sherlock appeared at his elbow, and John lowered the paper to see a rather sheepish-looking, but noticeably whipped-cream-free Sherlock holding out his mug. “Make me some more.”

Sherlock would never understand why, at this request, John burst into triumphant laughter.


End file.
